


The beginning after the End

by scullypout



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 'Fake' Married, Angst, F/M, The X-Files Revival, Undercover, Undercover as Married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullypout/pseuds/scullypout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic based off an idea created by Katie (thexfiles) and Jadie (foxmulders) over on Tumblr.</p><p>Mulder and Scully are married but separated, and are assigned a case where they have to pose undercover as a married couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The beginning after the End

She catches him staring, his eyes lingering on her a little too long, flicking down in guilty haste as she sends him a questioning look. They both go back to their laptop screens. The corners of her mouth turn up for an all too brief moment and he smiles to himself. They find themselves in companionable silence more often than not nowadays, almost all awkwardness between them gone as they sit opposite each other, writing up their latest case reports.

It’s juvenile as hell, he thinks, the small glances and uncertainty between them, but it’s a start. They’ve become so much more comfortable with each other recent months since they started working together again. She lets him get away with more. He still remembers the way his heart pounded as he placed his hand on her lower back, unsure of her reaction. Would she let him? He’d made no effort to hide the fact that he still loves her, will always love her. Whether or not she still reciprocated his feelings were unsure. She’d inhaled quickly, but made no move or made no comment dissuade him. He opens doors for her. When she turns to thank him, her eyes are soft. His hand brushes hers sometimes, by accident, he tells himself. Sometimes hers brush his back. He flirts with her, little passing comments, easy banter. Her eyes shine, the distance between their bodies decrease with each occurrence. Its like trying to win her all over again, but he swears to himself it won’t take him seven years this time.

*

Their companionable silence follows them to the waiting room outside Skinner’s office. They sit closer then maybe they probably should, but they’re not young anymore, they hardly care about things like that. He makes snide comments in her ear and she pretends she doesn’t find them funny. She’d do a better job of it, he thinks, if she were to wipe that smirk off her face.

They both stand as Skinner’s door opens and Mulder’s heart starts to race as Skinner avoids his eyes and asks him to stay outside as he ushers Scully inside. He smiles politely as Skinner’s secretary, Amanda or Emily he thinks her name is, tries to engage him. She’s young and pretty, mostly legs, with short dark hair and big doe eyes. He’s flattered; if she weren’t half his age he’d maybe play along. Maybe. Twenty-five years ago, she’d have been exactly his ‘type’ and god knows he’d have been all over her. Fuck, he felt old. The door opens and out walks his ‘type’ for the past twenty years, eyes stormy, cheeks slightly flushed. Scully marches out of the room and out the door, blanking Mulder completely. His stomach drops, his heart pounds, and he has a feeling he’s going to wish this were a reprimanding.

*

He couldn’t get out that office quick enough. He needs air. His chest feels tight. He can feel his wedding ring burning a hole through the breast pocket of his suit. He hopes someone is getting a fucking giggle out of this assignment because he’s certainly doesn’t find it funny. He’s not certain Scully’s going to say a single word to him for the duration of it, or if he were to try and track her down and talk to her now. He punches the elevator button for the basement harder than perhaps was necessary.

He’s relieved to find their basement office empty. He glances at the clock, only another five or so hours until it’s considered acceptable to leave, to drive home to the house he once shared with Scully, lay on the sofa in his office and think about the life he used to have with her. Great. _It’s always nice to have something to look forward to_ , he thinks sardonically.

At 2pm, he hears the clack of heels against the concrete floor, no doubt in his mind about who it could be. They stop just short of the door and he pictures her trying to compose herself. She enters, an almost unreadable expression on her face. Almost. They’ve know each other far too long, far too intimately, and been through far too much for him not to know her perhaps even better than she knows herself. Her eyes flicker nervously around the room, glancing at the skylight; at the poster he’s filled with pencils, at the folders piled high. She won’t look at him. She clutches her files to her chest; her hips sway in an exaggerated manner as she forces herself into the room. She won't look at him.

*

She catches him staring, his eyes lingering on her a little too long, flicking down in guilty haste as she stares back, expression unreadable. They both go back to their laptop screens. Her forehead crinkles, in concentration or frustration, he’s not sure. He frowns. They find themselves in awkward silence more often than not these past few days, almost all awkwardness between them renewed as they sit opposite each other, reading case notes for their newest assignment.

He leaves suddenly one afternoon, the sound of him closing his laptop makes her jump. He doesn’t tell her where he goes. It’s dark by the time she decides to leave, she’s given up awaiting his return, she’s cutting it fine, and if she’s not careful, she’s going to miss her dinner date with her mother. She’s not ready to talk to Mulder yet, not ready to look at him yet, not ready to be touched by him. Not until she’s finished considering all courses of action laid before her.

She gathers her coat and her bag, turning off the office lights as she leaves. She barely rounds the corner before she walks straight into him, almost losing her footing as she recoils from the impact.

“Jeeeesus, Mulder!” She exhales, fighting to get her heartbeat back to normal.

“Sorry.” He says, looking moderately sincere. “I’ve been getting things ready for the… uh…” he looks at the floor.

His head springs up, and begins to root around in his pockets. “Oh! Before I forget, I got you this. I wasn’t sure if I should because… er… but I thought you would like it and…” he trails off, the rambling too much for either of them, too many words after days of barely speaking. He pulls a ring out of his pocket. It’s beautiful; everything she could have possibly daydreamed about before meeting him. The dull, yellow light of the hallway bounces off the large, perfect diamond in the centre of the platinum band, making the four smaller diamonds on either side sparkle. She wonders how much more impressive the ring will look in daylight. She wonders how he managed to get a hold of it. It’s too much. It’s not her anymore. It’s the ring for someone trying to place a monetary value on their love and scream said monetary value from the rooftops.

She (sort of) hates it. She smiles politely, lips closed tight.

“So, Scully. What d’ya say, third time lucky?” Her heart breaks. That’s not fair, she thinks. He can’t say that. It’s not fair. She feels suffocated by the chain around her neck holding *her* wedding ring and engagement ring. It all feels too much at once. It’s not fair.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, if Scully's going to be fake/real married to Mulder, she deserves her mother.
> 
> Feedback is good, even when it's bad.


End file.
